The Bonds of Sadness
by PsychoticKhaotic
Summary: 82 years ago, his world changed. Chrono survived the fight with Aion, but now Rosette is gone, and he must deal with his past mistakes, and the demons that come with them. Locking himself away from the world, Chrono has changed, until one day, fate drops a young woman on his doorstep. OC, No pairings. Follows the manga. Chrono is OOC for reasonable reasons.
1. Prologue

82 years ago, his whole world changed. Chrono survived the fight with Aion, but now Rosette is gone, and he must deal with his past mistakes, and the demons that come with them. Locking himself away from the world, Chrono has changed for the worst. That is until one day, fate drops a young woman on his doorstep. Together, they will have to deal with the monsters both inside and out, and break the bonds of sadness once and for all. OC No pairings Follows,the manga, because the anime is BS. Chrono is a little OOC for reasonable reasons.

A year or so ago, after going on a Chrono Crusade binge, I had a strange dream about a dark Chrono mouring the death of Rosette, and a strange woman that stood at a distance and watched. ((Let us leave out all the juicy spoiler bits.)) The image in my head wouldn't fade away, so after a while, I sat down to try and form a story out of it, and viola. I'm writing this on my phone though, so chances are it won't be that great.

There will be language and violence, be forewarned.

* * *

_Prologue_

Time.

Time was lost to him. The hours, days, years... centuries. Long ago, they had all melded seamlessly together, until he could no longer differentiate between them. There was only one date, one time, that mattered anymore, and it was the only thing that kept him going. Every March, like clockwork, he would return to the shack built into the hill near the cemetery and from there, would venture into town. He would go to a local flower shop, and buy a bouquet of her favorite flowers to lay on her grave.

"Rosette..."

Uttering the name softly to himself, he rose from his chair, and clicked the overhead lamp off. Through the single window in the front room, he could see the soft pinks and golds in the sky giving way to pale blue, and as if on cue, a twittering bird landed on the window sill, and chirped its morning salutations to the sun. He paused for a moment, and watched the bird hop from one foot to the other, before gathering itself up and flying off in a flurry of feathers.

Yes, time no longer held any meaning. There was only one time that mattered to him now...The time to visit the one he loved. Without another thought, he turned and left.

Chicago had changed in the years since he first started visting it, but he had hardly paid it any mind. The only real thing that ever got his attention was how tall and numerous the buildings were now. As he walked through the busy streets, he absently hoped the flower shop he usually visited was still there. It was a pain in the ass to find another one when they closed down or moved. Turning the corner, he narrowed his eyes, searching as he walked. Ah, good, it was still there. The tiny bell above the door gave a merry "ding" as he pushed the door open, and he was automatically greeted by a cheerful female voice.

"Hello! Welcome to our store, is there anythi-" the voice cut off sharply, and was joined by another much older and more familiar one. "Ah, young man, it's you." Turning his head, he caught the source of two voices. The one at the counter was a young girl he had never seen before. She seemed frozen, stuck midway in conversation. There was still a ghost of a smile on her lips, but her eyes were wide, and her face was slowly growing pale. The second voice belonged to the elderly woman on her knees and nearly out of sight, tending to some flowers in a pot on the floor. He remembered her introducing herself as Aster once. She gave him a warm smile as she stood up and pulled off her gloves, making her way towards him. "You're here earlier than normal. We just opened, so I haven't had the time to make your order yet." He pinned the woman with a sharp gaze momentarily, but said nothing, and instead turned to a table with a few elegently aranged roses. Carefully, he plucked a dark colored bloom from a vase, and began to examine it.

Unperturbed, Aster turned to the younger woman. "Right then. Dear, would you be so kind as to gather the wrapping paper and a ribbon I have set on the table in the back?" The old woman turned her attention to the girl, and she shook her head as if to clear it, before bobbing it in confirmation and scurrying off through the door behind her.

Slowly, Aster made her way over to a table that contained pots full of vibrantly colored flowers and began to examine each one carefully before chosing one, and placing it in a vase next to her. As she worked, she stole a glance at the imposing figure still examing the roses, and smiled to herself. She remembered when he first entered her store, so many years ago. Goodness, he had startled and amazed her just the same. He was extremely tall and lean, with shaggy purple hair that reached to his shoulders, and bright ruby red eyes set above a straight nose, and an even straighter and firm mouth. There was a wicked scar that crossed over his left eye and ear, and it took one year of warm weather for her to discover that he had a matching crisscross of them on his right arm. She had always wanted to ask him about them, but she felt it was not within her rights to pry, and the silent fellow seemed the type to not enjoy being asked personal questions.

"I need a bouquet of lillies. Red, if you have them." Were the only words she had ever heard him utter.

He was such a strange man. She had turned into an old woman since their first meeting, yet he hadn't aged a day. It was peculiar, but like his scars, she never questioned it.

"Grandmother, I got what you asked for." The chirp behind Aster startled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to see her granddaughter puffing slightly behind her. "Thank you dear, now if you could grab some foliage for me, I'd be grateful." Beaming, the girl nodded and bounded off to the other side of the store. "My, must you run child? The plants aren't going anywhere." She called out. Her only answer was a chiming laugh and she sighed, shaking her head lightly. As the girl came skipping back with some decorative leaves and small flowers, Aster began to slowly arrange them into a delicate bouquet. The girl, who had been silently watching her grandmother, suddenly smacked her forhead with her palm. "Oooohh." She groaned. I forgot the ribbon, be right back." As she bounded off again, Aster glanced sideways at the man and was surprised to see him looking in their direction. Their eyes met, and he jerked back to his previous position. Obviously, she wasn't supposed to see that.

"My granddaughter." Aster laughed lightly in confirmation, almost sounding amused. "It's a relief to have her help around here. There's only so much these old bones can do now, and her energy makes this place much more lively." She wound a piece of floral wire around the flowers as she spoke, and used a pair of scissors to cut the stems even. The man paused for a split second, but gave no indication that he had heard her otherwise. She didn't mind his silence, or lack of reactions, she had long since grown used to it. She was about to say something else, but her granddaughter came bursting through the room, waving a dark pink ribbon in the air. "Got it!" She cheered. Aster took the ribbion and waved it at her as if to say "Shame on you for fogetting, young lady" and began to twist it near the base of boquet. Setting the arrangement down, she gently tied it off into a lovely bow to finish it. Picking it up, she slowly twisted it this way and that before turning to the odd fellow with a nod of satisfaction. Without a word, he placed the rose back in its respective place, and made his way over to the two. As he took the boquet from her weathered hands, Aster bowed her head, as she always did. "I'm sorry for your loss. Send them an extra prayer for me." She said respectfully. This time though, instead of turning to walk away, the man lingered for a second, and almost as if in afterthought, opened his mouth.

"Thank you."

He then turned on his heel, and left, as if nothing happened, but behind him, Aster's breath hitched, and her eyes were wide. Her grandaughter, whose gaze had been trained on the retreating stranger's back, was suddenly aware of her grandmother, and turned worriedly to her.

"Grandma? Are you alright? Who was that man? "

Aster grinned broadly as her gaze wondered over to the money he had left on the table while she had been busy. "Yes dear, I'm fine. And he's just a loyal customer."

30 long years, and that was the first act of gratitude he had ever shown her.

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No the granddaughter isn't the MC of the story, that's why she's nameless. Aster isn't either.


	2. A Shattered Silence

Thank you to those that reviewed, favorited, and followed, I appreciate it a lot.

I'm in the middle of moving though, so updates will be slow.

Yeah, not happy with this chapter. I had it all written out, then deleted it all and started from scratch. It's still not the best, but it's better than it was, so ehn. -shrugs-

Anyways, to the story!

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Chapter 2: A Shattered Silence

A single shot, a sound of cracking thunder ripped through the area. The deafening noise reverberated off the buildings, and as it faded a shout could be heard.

"Damn it, shoot straight! If you blow the bitch's legs off she can't run!"

The "bitch" the man had reffered to rounded a corner so fast she slid and almost lost her footing. Just as she caught herself a gun spoke with its deep throated rumble, and the concrete of the sidewalk behind her exploded, showering her calves with little bits of debris. But she was off again, throwing a heated glance over her shoulder. Three men rounded the corner, and she saw two of them raise their arms. The objects in their hands gave off the gleam of dark metal in the glaring streetlight, and she swore loudly, diving into a small allyway.

"If I don't have her head tonight, one of yours will be replacing it!" The disgruntled voice behind her wasn't as far away as she would have liked, and that spurred her on down the narrow passage. A wooden fence appeared infront if her, and she ran towards it at full tilt. Leaping up, her momentum made scaling it easy, and she flew over as if she was on wings. As her feet hit the ground again, a grim thought seeped into her mind. She was good at running, and no doubt she was fast, but she couldn't run forever. Already her lungs were burning with every gasping gulp of air she took. Her heart pounded so hard behind her ribs that she could feel it in her toes, and her limbs cried out as they beat their frantic tattoo on the pavement.

No, she couldn't keep this up for much longer.

Spying one of the old styled fire escapes that lined the alley, she came to a halt. There was a wooden crate under one. If she could just use it to... Not wasting a single second, she climbed on top and coiled her legs. In a giant leap, her fingers grazed the cool metal of the first wrung, and reflexively grabbed on tight. She had just scrambled up to the lowest platform when the wooden fence she had cleared just seconds before began to rattle. Without thinking, she hit the deck and tried to make herself as flat as possible. As a face broke into her plane of sight, she drew in a deep breath and held it. The goon below her glanced back briefly as his partner began to climb the fence, then shot off down the alley. The second and third man followed shortly after, and as they turned a corner and vanished, the air left her lungs in a giant whoosh and her forehead thunked against the metal plate in exasperation. As much as she would have liked to though, she couldn't rest here. Once those brutes found out she'd gave them the slip, they'd most likely split up and come looking for her. Knowing her luck, they were just realising it now.

With a heavy sigh, she made her way down the ladder and over the fence again. She started off straight ahead at a slow jog, trying to put as much distance between her and her pursuers as possible. Just as she cleared the street, there was yelling in the far distance.

Yup, that was her cue. She set off down the road and into another alley at a faster pace.

* * *

A half hour of evading the pack of wolves on her tail found herself in one of the more sleepy and rural areas of Old Chicago. The harsh incandescent lights of the city weren't nearly as strong here, and as she looked up she could make out the swollen belly of the moon, and the dim streaks of blue that made up the Earth's rings. She took a moment from her fast paced walk to admire them. To this day, there were a number of theories and conspiracies that floated around the rings' origin. Aliens, a rouge meteor, some secret Russian or German experiment gone wrong. Some of the nuttier ones clamied it was a demon spaceship that exploded in the earth's atmosphere after almost bringing about the end of the world! She herself had thought most of it to be a crock, but as she never saw them from the city, she never had much time to ponder the matter. Regardless, they were still pretty to look at...

As she strolled, sucked into her nighttime reverie, she failed to notice a group of people rush around a corner a few blocks back. They stopped, and glanced aroundf feverishly, looking for something. One of them spotted her and jabbed his comrade in the ribs. At his loud complaint, he raised a hand, one meaty finger pointed in the direction of a figure bathed in the dim light of a street torch.

"There she is!"

The man who had been elbowed called out as he leveled his gun, and fired off a single shot.

Back in the city noise was a constant. There was always something going on, some loud noise or another. Gunshots were nothing new. But out here, everything was deafeningly silent, and the perverse sound rang out with startling clarity, shattering the silence. She didn't even have time to react until an object whistled past her head and ricocheted off the wrought iron bars of a fence next to her in a shower of sparks. Without thinking, she squealed in surprise, and looked behind her. She was in light, and it was currently too dark, and her assailants too far away to make out. The ringing in her her left her no doubt that they were there though, and she whirled around, looking for escape.

The street was an empty straight shot, her only means of cover being too far away to risk getting to if she wanted to avoid a bullet hole in an unsavory area. The only place that could give her any chance was the over the fence, and on the other side of that was a graveyard. "Well that's just too freakin' ironic." She ground out, lunging for the bars without hesitation. She managed to monkey herself over the slick and sharp tiped metal, and even though the impact rattled her teeth, she stll hit the ground running. Hopefully, if she went deeper into the cemetery, she could loose them in some of the tall headstones. Luckily for her though, the goons didn't have as easy as a time getting over the slippery bars as she did. Frustrated, one of them jammed their arm between the wide opening, and fired off two rounds. The sound made her flinch, but none if the bullets made it near her. Gaining a small bit of confidence, she turned around and shouted in a mocking tone. "Sorry asshats, today just ain't my day to go!" Her laughter was cut off by a thunderous yell, echoed by a few more cracks of gunfire. She wasn't one to press her luck too far though, so with a triumphant grin, she turned her back to them and trotted off down a hill.

The graveyard was very old, and thankfully, very large. The goons had made it inside, but as she made her way into the deepest depths of the cemetery, she was able to change their game into a cat and mouse one as she took cover behind some of the taller and more elaborate headstones. The crooks were persistent though, and no matter how long or many times she evaded them, they never gave up. Exasperated, she peeked out from her recent hiding spot, and scanned the area for a new one. Her eyes were drawn down an incline, and as she followed it, she was drawn to a secluded hill far off. One face of the tall mound had been oddlly sheared off, either by natural or man made forces, she couldn't tell. As she examined the curiosity more closely, something caught her eye, something that was man made. A structure that appeared to be wood jutted out from the cliff. It looked like a shack if some sort that went far deeper into the earth behind it, though at this distance, it was hard to tell. Whatever it was, it didn't matter to her. If she could make it, that could be her one way ticket to getting out of this mess.

Narrowing her eyes and gathering herself up, she made a mad dash for the building. She slid to a stop infront of a rickety old door, and grasped the knob firmly. Her sigh of relief turned into a groan of aggravation as the knob began to twist but got stuck halfway. She uttered a few colorful words under her breath and twisted it again violently, throwing herself against the door for emphasis. On the third try, it gave way, and she clumsily stumbled into the darkness. Slamming the door shut, she turned the button to lock it, thankful that whoever had been here last neglected to do so, and sank against the wood shakily. As she tried to get her breathing under control, a soft far off sound caught her attention. Her previously closed eyes flew open and she froze, trying to locate the source. She sat liked that for a minute, scanning the area, but could neither hear nor see anything that spoke of danger. _'__Must've been a rat or somthin'.'_ She thought to herself, standing up and brushing her legs off. She looked around the inky blackness of the enclosure, but could only make out a cloaked form of what looked to be the edge of a desk, faintly Illuminated by the rays of low moonlight that hardly made its way through the dirty glass of the window. She walked over to it, wiping off a layer of grime and dust so she could peer outside. Almost instantly, she ducked down, then slowly raised up to peek over the sill. The goons were scanning the area slowly with guns drawn. Thirty, maybe forty feet away at best, and they were making their way closer. She gulped and gripped the edge of the window, but another soft noise sounded behind her, much closer this time. She didn't have time to find the source, as a low male voice accompanied it.

"Get out.

Nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned around with a sharp scream. "Oh my god, I didn't know anyone was here. Please, I nee-"

"Get out." The disembodied voice interrupted, a dangerous tone etching into it.

"You don't understand, there are men with guns, I can't just go out there!" She exlaimed, trying now to locate whoever was speaking. The voice was coming from deeper in the shack though, in the darkness where she couldn't see.

"I said leave." Whoever was speaking moved forward with a menacing growl that sounded more at home coming from a beast's mouth than a human's. She felt a chill run up her back, and as a pair of luminous yellow eyes formed in the darkness, she felt the blood in her veins turn to ice. Slowly, the rest of the figure took shape, and she made out the form of a man. No, he couldn't be a man. Humans didn't have glowing yellow eyes, sharpened claws, the teeth of a monster, and... oh god, was that a human SPINE coming out of the back of his head? And were those... Holy shit those were horns.

Suddenly, those people spouting crap about demon spaceships blowing up didn't sound so nutty anymore.

The monster barred its teeth in a bone chilling snarl, and with another scream, she turned and fled to the door. In her panic, she had not only forgotten that the door was locked, but that there were also people outside who wanted her dead. As she struggled wildly to get the door open, a voice sounded off from the other side.

"Told you I thought I saw that wench come over here! Stand back guys." Her face, if it was even possible, paled a few shades more, and she barely had time to jump back and brace herself as an echoing boom shot off the doorknob, and splinters of wood went flying as the door swung open violently. In the chaos she dove forward, rather risking the throng of armed people than the creature in the shack. Rough hands seized her around her waist though, and she found herself being thrown into the dirty floor. "Not so fast missy. We wasted a helluva lot of time and energy tryin' to catch you. You ain't goin' nowhere." Nearly hyperventilating, she scrambled off the floor and threw herself towards to door in one last desperate bide for freedom. It was when one of them slapped her hard across the face and grabbed her that all hell broke loose. The beast behind her roared, furious at the prospect of more intruders. The man's iron grip on her arm loosened, and without thinking, he shoved her towards the approaching thing with a yell.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion. The three men each raised their guns as they began backpedaling towards the door. She regained her balance, and rushed forward, shoving through them. The enraged demon leapt forward, and suddenly, shots rang out. Several of the bullets found their mark, but that did not stop his wrath filled decent towards them. The three, noticing that he was not dropping, turned to flee, and four bodies struggled to make it outside.

She could no longer see her surroundings. Fear blotted out everything but the thought of escape. She found herself shoved backwards by the force of bodies, but even so, managed to get outside. As they all pressed forward to the front of the cemetery, there was a noise above their heads that sounded like rustling clothing, and a shadow fell over them. The demon had cut off their escape, and in their terror, the armed men scattered, firing their guns off in a frenzy. A searing pain ripped through her shoulder, and she screamed. The men paid her no mind, and one collided with her with a dull crack, sending he spiraling to the ground.

Her head connected with the earth in an explosion of stars and colors, and as the pain registered, the world seemed to glitch, and faded to black.

* * *

-Cackles-

Don't y'all _mess_ with Chrono's door now.

There's probably tons of mistakes, but it's late, and my hand hurts from typing so much on my phone, so they should be fixed at a later time


	3. Walk Among the Tombstones

Wow, cranked this one out pretty fast, huh? Consider this my going away present to the few of you who read this, because I'm pretty much booked to the middle of next month. I decided to take a day off from workworkwork to sit down and type this out.

The reviews also helped light my fire, thank you all.

Anyways, enjoy!

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Chapter_ 2_

_Walk Among the Tombstones _

_"Why do you have to go big sis?"_

The young voice was familiar, comforting. Like an old friend from long ago.

_"Valerie, it's okay for you to stay for a little while. You don't have to leave in such a hurry." _

Valerie... That's what the other voice said. It... it was her name, wasn't it?

_"Sorry, but I gotta. Can't see the wonders of the world cooped up in this place, now can I?"_

Oh... that's right. These were her memories. Memories she'd left behind. How could she forget?

As if to answer her question, an image shifted and faded into view. A blotched figure of a father she couldn't quite remember because he had gone away forever, and the much clearer one of a sobbing mother. Sometimes with a bottle in her hand, and at others, a needle. She watched her once pretty face twist into an indescribable emotions as her and her someone else were lead away by a strange man in a suit and tie.

Then, another appeared. A tiny girl, significantly younger than her. She was just barely a toddler, with wild honey-brown hair and large dark green eyes.

_"Sammy..."_

Yeah. Her baby sister, Samantha.

The image infront of her jumped and shifted like an old tape that wouldn't play right. She caught snippets of places and people. A home crowded with other children, people with faces faded away, different homes she knew should seem familar, but couldn't be placed. Then, a person appeared, his features morphed in anger. She saw a hand raised, heard a sharp sound, felt the phantom sensation of pain.

And screaming... There was always screaming.

She remembered the singular thought of needing to protect someone, of running into a moonless night, dragging them along. She remembered the terrible feeling of hunger gnawing at her ribs, of the cold as it turned her body numb. The only constant in the muddled chaos that swirled around her was golden brown and green. Her sister Sammy as she grew through the years. Yes, she was the one she had to protect. The one she ran away with to save. Without warning, the shaky picture melted away into nothingness, and she was left alone.

_"Promise me."_

What? The voice was unexpected, and took her by surprise.

_"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, that you won't do anything stupid or get into trouble."_

Oh. It was her sister's voice, ladden with worry.

_"Baby girl, you know I wouldn't do that."_

Guilt was suddenly a weight heavy in the pit of her stomach.

_"I love you Ri-Ri."_

Because... She didn't keep her promise.

_"I love you too Sammy."_

Slowly, as if she was opening her eyes, a different environment began to form and take focus. It was different than the others. Warmer, and much clearer. It brought with it the feeling of safety, but discomfort as well. Three people, each staring at her with different expressions became clear, and her gaze was drawn to the young girl with brown hair, no longer short or messy, and deep earth toned eyes, filled with sadness. The others she recognized slowly. A middle aged couple. The man looked at her with a skeptical gaze of reproach etched into the lines of his face. Concern filled the eyes of the woman, and faintly reflected the sadness of Sammy's. Looking back, it seemed like they knew what she'd be getting into.

She visited often, but never told them of her lost jobs, of not being able to pay rent and getting kicked out of her apartment. Of having to steal and resort to other unfavorable, not to mention illegal actions. She was too proud and stubborn to ask for help, or to admit her mistakes and honestly, she didn't want to live in their home. They were kindly, and took care of her, yes, but in there, it just felt like she was caged. That, and if she told the truth, she'd have to see the disappointment in Sammy's eyes. Just the thought was enough to make her chest ache.

So, a simple thief was she. Only, the lifestyle wasn't so simple. Her mind played back the events that happened not too long ago. She'd gone to sell some hot items to a group of people she'd heard about on the grapevine. Granted, she should have gone with a buyer she knew a little better, but she'd be damned if she didn't take the chance to make a quicker buck in this economy. She'd paid for her folly when the guy she'd tried to strike up a bargain with got a little too testy, claiming that the price she'd asked for had been ridiculous. Some... heated words were exchanged, and well... Shit went down. Next thing she'd known, her fist had become very good friends with the man's face, and her eyes became equally as good friends with a particularly shiny gun. She'd escaped, just barely, but the guy decided to give chase with a small posse. How she could be so simultaneously lucky yet unlucky at the same time was a feat she'd yet to comprehend.

Then, the graveyard came to mind.

It seemed considerably more creepy in her mind than it had when she was actually there. A thick fog that hasn't been there before blanketed the area and swirled around her ankles as she walked among the tombstones. It seemed to cling to them, masking figures cloaked in black, concealing all but the glaring yellow eyes that peered from their depths. An apprehensive noise welled up in the back of her throat, and she pressed a fist to her lips to stiffle it.

No. This is wrong. It's all wrong. Monsters, demons, devils... They didn't exist. Not in this reality, not this world. It was impossible. But the golden gleam did not disappear from the corners of her vision. A headstone burst from the ground infront of her. A hand tipped with razor sharp claws curled over the edges, and a monstrous growl reached her ears. Shrieking, she turned on her heel and bolted. The growl followed, it was right behind her. She had to run faster. She tore through the cemetery, but a group of people loomed infront of her.

It was the goons, but something was wrong. Their skin was pale, their faces dirty and caked with something. Something red...

_No._

The word slipped from her lips, and she gripped her head, forcing down a scream. They had been eviscerated. Deep holes were goudge into their torsos, and things she didn't want to think about hung in a gory show from the wounds. The one in the middle, the one she'd punched, raised a bloodstained hand in her direction. She took a step back, but the hand morphed, and suddenly, it was no longer him standing there, but a monster. She saw its mouth curl up in in cruel grin, displaying unfathomable amounts of sharp teeth. It lunged at her, and before she could react, its terrible maw closed around her shoulder, and a burning sensation ripped through her.

She screamed.

With a large gasp, Valerie's eyes flew open and she found herself not face to face with a beast, but with the green grass of the ground. Her breath came in heaving sobs, and each one brought a wave of pain from both her head and shoulders.

"A... dream...?" She rolled over on to her back with a grimace, and noticed that the sky above her was slowly beginning to lighten. How long had she been out for? _A few hours at least?_ Laboriously, she sat up and as her shoulder twinged, she brought her hand up to it reflexively. It came away with a viscous red liquid covering it.

Oh god, she hasn't dreamed that she'd been shot. Valerie removed her hoodie as fast as possible without causing herself further harm, and inspected the wound feverishly. It wasn't as bad as she had first thought. The bullet hadn't punched through, it just grazed her. And the bleeding had pretty much stopped. It still hurt like a bitch though.

She sighed and looked around, trying to gather her wits and barings. Her eyes fell on the shack, about forty feet away, and her muscles tensed involuntarily. She could have sworn there had been _something _in there that hadn't been human. It'd chased her out and right into the hands of the goons. When they'd realised what was in there, they panicked and ran. It chased them, but in the chaos of trying to kill the thing, one of them misfired on her, and in the further commotion, one of them crashed into her, and she hit her head and blacked out. Her eyes narrowed, and she continued to glance around, but couldn't find any bodies or signs of bodies.

So, either she had really imagined it, or for some reason, the creature hadn't returned to finish her off. Maybe it'd thought she was dead? Oh, what was she thinking? Of course she had to have imagined it! The thought confused her though. It seemed entirely too vivid to have been conjured by her own mind. If she used drugs, she could have amounted it up to one horribly nasty trip, but she never touched the stuff, and thus she was back to square one. Maybe the bloodloss had gone to her head? She made a noise and craned her head to look at the wound. It was more of a really bad scratch. Though, any lower and it probably would have hit and broke her collarbone. It was about three inches long and probably not as deep or as bad as it looked, judging by the fact that it wasn't gushing blood, and that she wasn't covered in it. She reached up to scratch some of the dried stuff off, and spied a water pump a ways away from the shack. She weighed the options heavily in her mind, and with a deft shrug of her uninjured shoulder she hauled herself to her feet and ambled over. Taking off her tank top she pulled the lever. The pump sputtered for a second, and began to spit out water. She let it run for a little bit before adjusting the flow, and sticking her shoulder underneath it. It stung at first, and her breath hissed as she sucked in air. Eventually, the pain faded, and she welcomed the feeling of cool relief it brought her, even dunking her head under it. When the water ran clear, and the dried blood was washed away, she stopped the pump and stood up, twisting her arm to try and get a better look at it in the first rays of the morning sun. No, it was a bit more of a laceration than a scratch. The wound was an inch or so wide, puckered at the edges, and deep enough for her to see the tissue. It wasn't superficial, but not something she would have to make a fuss about. Frowning slightly, she began to carefully tie the tank top around the area in a make shift bandage and put the hoodie on, zipping it up. Besides, it wasn't like she could go to a hospital. A gunshot injury would raise suspicion, and she'd probably get arrested. That was something she'd been lucky enough to avoid up until this point, and she'd like to keep it that way.

Speaking of being caught... Her ears picked up a faint rumbling sound in the distance and she quickly recognized it as the sound if a truck engine. At this early, it must be the grounds keeper. Her first instinct was to dive for the shed, but hallucination or not, she didn't want to risk intruding on someone a second time. She turned and bolted, looking for somewhere to either escape, or hide. After going up over a hill, she could see trees and a fence that promised freedom. However, the slight twinge in her arm reminded her that climbing was out of the question. She skidded to a halt, and jerked her head to and fro, trying to find something else to aid her. Among the headstones, a flash of pink and red caught her eye.

Flowers.

Not the best cover, but it would work in a bind. Quickly, Valerie trotted over to the headstone and stood infront of it, bowing her head as if in deep thought. She heard the engine of the truck cut off from where she couldn't see and everything went silent. She strained her ears to hear footsteps, but could find none. Suddenly, she heard a gruff voice far off, and raised her head to see an aged man on the top of the hill. She couldn't make out his face or expression from where she stood, but raised a hand meekly in greeting. The man continued to stare. Valerie let her arm fall to her side, dropping her head to the grave before her and drooped her shoulders to look as pensive as possible. The grounds keeper must have bought it, because after a minute, she faintly heard the truck engine roar to life and drive off.

The air she didn't know she'd been holding woodshed out of her lungs and she sank to her knees.

"Thanks, I owe you one..." She read the name on the headstone. "...Rosette Christopher." Her gaze dropped to the lillies. "You were about my age... Life's a bitch, huh? But it looks like someone cares for you." She glanced around at the other headstones and noticed that none of them had any flowers on or near them, and hadn't been kept near as neat or pristine as this one had. "A lot. Musta been a pretty amazing person for someone to not forget about you after all these years." As she spoke, a breezed picked up and blew bits of leaves across the grave and stone. She wasn't the type to care, let alone care about a dead person, but dead or not, this Rosette had helped her out, so she respectfully reached over to brush the debris away.

"You shouldn't be here."

The cool voice behind her gave her flashbacks, and with a yelp she flew to her feet and turned around, ready to run. It was a man though, not a monster. He stood tall, dwarfing her already short stature, and she had to crane her neck to look at him. He seemed to be around her age, maybe a bit older, with long, somewhat disheveled purple hair, and oddly colored red eyes that were locked on her pointedly. The scars that ran down one of them made her shiver. He didn't have yellow eyes, or any of the features that the creature from the shack did, but something about him - maybe the air of unfriendliness, or the way his ruby colored eyes were narrowed at her almost in a half threat, half warning - reminded her of the encounter she may-have-may-not-have imagined before.

"Um, sorry. I was just about to leave." The words that tumbled from her mouth before she could reign them in surprised her. She wasn't normally this polite to strangers, let alone strangers who gave her that kind of look. Her eyelids dropped in silent defiance, but the stranger took a half step towards her, unfolding his arms and she lost her will. The attack that she'd taked for a hallucination was too fresh in her mind, and she was in no condition to fight. With a huff, she pivoted on her heal and headed for the exit.

Red eyes followed her until she vanished from sight, and dropped to the name in the headstone. His expression, barely visible from underneath the violet locks that shadowed it from the early morning sun, softened with saddness.

* * *

Holy carp, MC has name.

Ever had one if those memory dreams where everything is all wonky, and meshed together, and hard to make sense of? That's what's happening with Valerie, and the writing is supposed to reflect all the awkwardly vague chaos that's going on in her noggin. She hit it pretty hard.

On a side note, I've actually done a lot if research about the foster care system. I used to live next to a lady who fostered, and it was astonishing how many kids she could get at once, and how quickly some would come and go. It's even more startling the amount if kids that get abused or neglected.

It's a humbling thought, really.


	4. I Am But A Monster

Yes, this chapter was previously posted, but there was tons of mistakes in it, so I removed it to try and fix it. It's honestly a mess, and I don't like the chapter, but I'm at a standstill with what to do with it, so I'll leave it for now.

On a side note, if you find any spelling or grammar mistakes please point them out to me. My phone tends to not like to type everything out smoothly, and I tend to miss things even after proof reading it a few times.

* * *

Chrono's gaze lifted from his love's resting place, looking at the direction the intruder had vanished. He hadn't had a good look at her in the shack, and in fact hadn't even noticed it was a woman. All he had heard were gunshots, yelling, and the sound of his door being beaten into submission. His singular thought at that point had been to get them out, but more people had come, breaking down his door and brandishng guns in the most threatening of manners. He felt his already low tolerance to humans diminish, and as he stepped forward, and felt the cruel bite of metal in his skin, his temper flared, coming dangerously close to boiling over into full blown rage. His attention focused on the gun weilding annoyances. He planned to give them all a mark to remember him by. It wasn't until he had the last man rolling on the ground with an unconscious groan that he realised there had been four people in his home, not three. Chrono scoured the city, but could find no trace of them. Disgrutled, he made his way back to the cemetery.

Oh well, surely the three would pass along the message.

However, as his shack came into view, so to did the prostate form of someone sprawled out on the grass. The metallic smell of blood that tickled the inside of his nostrils told him that they had already been injured, so he approached without hesitation. Most of their form was hidden from view. They were laying face down, with a hood from their jacket pulled over their head, but he concluded from their small size and strands of long dark hair that escaped the hood that it must have been a young girl. A deep inhale confirmed his suspcion. The scent was too light to be male. Curious, he bent down for a closer look. Some blood had seeped into the ground near their left shoulder. The wound didn't seem deep, and they appeared to still be breathing, so he pondered his next course of action. Ideally, he would probably just dump them outside the cemetery gates, and leave it at that. Whatever happened afterwards was of noconcern to him. However, he could see the sun beginning to rise, which meant the grounds keeper would be making his rounds. If he was spotted carrying a body, that could raise some trouble. Chrono shrugged to himself, and reached out a clawed hand to the unconscious body. He could most likely make it without being seen. At that moment though, the girl twitched violently and muttered something that sounded liked a name under her breath. He froze immediately, the yellow glow of his eyes nearly vanshing behind thick, dark lashes. The figure moved again, and this time whined softly. Chrono stood to his full height, and began to step away. If they woke up, they could do that job for him. The old old grounds keeper usually avoided his area, so chances were if they met up, the commotion would happen far from him.

Just as Chrono had settled himself in the sturdy branches of a far off tree to observe, the girl awoke with a bone chilling scream. _Great, that'd attract anyone within a ten mile radius._ Desipte himself, Chrono growled. His eyesight was far superior to that of a human's, so even at this distance and light, as she removed her hoodie, he could make out the details of her. Her hair was a mess of dirty, tangled waves, and looked like it was a shade of dark black, but it was hard to tell. Her skin was naturally a light dusty tan under all the dirt and mud, but the darker sun kissed color of her face and arms suggested she spent most of her time outside. Underneath her tank top, she looked very thin, almost sickly so. Her shoulders were boney, her collarbone jutted out, and from here he swore if it weren't for the shirt, he could count her ribs. As if the girl read his mind, she stood up and took the tank off as she made her over to the water pump warily. Well, he could almost count her ribs. As she began to wash off her shoulder, Chrono wrinkled his nose. He hoped she would finish up and leave soon. She dressed herself but did not make to move, and he was certian he would have to climb down and scare her off, but the rumbling sound of a truck engine reached his ears. _Ah, so he had heard the scream_.

A few seconds later, the girl seemed to hear it too. She stiffened, then looked around frantically for an escape. He sat back in satisfaction when she set off at at slow run, but the satisfaction turned to surprise as he realised which direction she was headed, then to anger as she stopped and made a beline straight for Rosette's grave. A growl bubbled dangerously in the back of his throat, and he lept from his hiding spot, his wings catching the air to slow his decent into an easy glide. He had landed some fifty feet away from her, but the sound of the old man approaching was clear, and instead of attacking, he was forced to shift into his human form. Just as the last of his devil attributes faded away, the grounds keeper cleared the hill and spotted the girl, calling out to her. She looked up, raised her hand in greeting, then dropped her head. Neither of them seemed to notice his presence, but when the old man began to walk over to her he drew the line. One person near her grave was more than enough. He began to walk over to the girl. The old man was drawn to the movement, and stopped when he saw who it was. Chrono had been present at the graveyard once a year every year since well before the man had started working here. The wisened man knew of his residence and he could venture a guess that the man knew he was not human. After all, he gave him a wide birth. The old man froze mid step, eyeing Chrono with an apprehensive gaze. Finally, he turned and quickly made his way to his vehicle, obviously deciding the girl was not worth crossing paths with a devil. As the truck engine roared to life, the girl sank to her knees infront of Rosette's grave. Her words reaching his sensitive ears stopped him, and as she cleared off the grass where Rosette slept, he felt his anger subside substantially.

Fine, he would let her mistake slide this time. Folding his arms, he spoke. The girl - no, closer up, her face showed that she was older than just a girl - flew to her feet. Her short stature was deceiving though, she didn't even break the plane of his shoulders. Her eyes, a light olive green, widened in momentary shock and fear before she found her courage and they narrowed. He'd accepted her challenge and offered up one of his own, unfolding his arms and taking a warning step towards her. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, then decided against a fight, turning to jog away. His gaze was drawn to Rosette, and the woman's words came to his mind.

Yes, she was a very special person... There wasn't a human in the world like her. Mary may have opened his eyes, but Rosette had shown him the light. And now, he had loved and lost both because he hadn't been strong enough to protect them.

Because he... he was a monster who only brought saddness.

* * *

Valerie had made it out of the graveyard and back into the city without a hitch. The mysterious stranger and the monster were still present in her mind, even after the sounds of city life should have drown them out. She shook her head, and the pain from her shoulder brought her back to reality. No, she shouldn't think about it anymore, the encounter was well behind her now and she didn't have to worry about it. She paused and placed one hand on her wound, recalling the dream she had while unconscious. It had been a very long time since she had paid her dear sister a visit, and the urge to see Sammy's face hit her strongly. With renewed vigor, she changed her course towards one of the more residential sides of town.

The house was a modest one, painted a pale but sunny blue. It was plain, yet warm, much like the couple that resided there. The yard was small, but well manicured and painted a lush dark green. A brightly colored flower bed, the pride and joy of her foster mother, Dawn, wrapped around the house and lined the cobbled pathway leading up the wooden door, just recently coated in a layer of fresh white paint. Valerie paused for a moment then stepped towards the entryway, placing her hand on the large lone oak that adorned their yard. She had fond memories of climbing it when she was younger. Of pretending that the top was her freedom, and that if she could reach it, she'd be able to grow wings and fly away from the city like a bird. A wry smile pulled at the corner of her lips as the urge to try one more time entered her mind. She pushed the feelings down with a shake of her head and climbed the steps to the door, rapping her knuckles on the hard surface three times. She waited, but no one came to the door. Knitting her eyebrows together, Valerie knocked again. Normally they were punctual in answering, so with hesitance, she tried the doorbell. It chimed merrily, but no other soundcould be heard. Hopping off the small porch she peeked into the window of the garage. One car was out on the driveway, but the large family SUV was missing. "Must be out shopping or something." Valerie mumbled, shrugging one thin shoulder. She made her way to the side of the house, checking to see if the spare key was still hidden in the gutter. She fished it out with triump, and kissed the shiny metal object vehemently. They wouldn't mind if she let herself in. It would give her a chance to wash up too. As she opened the door she decided to leave her worn shoes outside so they would see it upon their return. That should be enough to alert them that she was visiting.

The inside hadn't changed a bit. The house,was also modestly decorated with homey pieces of furniture and bright paintings and pictures. One in particular caught her eye as she passed through the foyer on her way to the bathroom. It was an enormous picture, the largest in the home, and set directly above the fireplace. It was a family photo of all of them, taken shortly before she'd left. It fetured them all dressed in their Sunday best. Sammy was sitting directly in front, her hair done up in tight ringlets beaming at the camera so hard that her teeth showed and her eyes squeezed shut. Dawn stood behind and to the right of Valerie, her short blonde hair dusting her shoulders softly, her brown eyes crinkled and her delicately made up face lifted in a soft smile. Valerie stood next to her, her unruly waves brushed until they shone. She was smiling, but still managed to look ever so slightly unamused. She hated cameras. Her foster father, Ethan, who was a full head taller than her, stood behind the both of them, a crooked grin on his face. His black hair had been slicked back in a manner that made him look like a true professional, and his blue eyes just barely relfected her shared hate for cameras. One large hand rested on her shoulder, the other on Emily's. Valerie snorted softly, eyeing the gold frame. She hated that picture almost as much as she loved it.

Turning, she began to strip and make her way to the bathroom. The washer and dryer were set in the hallway through the door leading to it, so she unwound the tank top from her shoulder and threw that in with everything else, loaded the washer up with soap, and turned it on. As the machine began to whirr, she opened the door to the bathroom and flicked on the light so she could examine herself in the wide mirror.

God, she looked like shit. It was a good idea she got here before them. She hadn't taken into consideration how homely she might look. Wasting no time she turned the faucet in the tub on, and waited until the water was about the same temperature as the water they used to sterilize tools in a hospital, flicked the shower knob, then jumped in. She meticulously scrubbed every inch of herself head to toe, and when the water finally began to run clear, she started on her hair. When she was satisfied she shut off the water and stepped out if the tub, wrapping one of the fluffy white towels around herself. Winding a smaller one around her head she went to the washroom to throw her now clean clothes into the dryer. Stepping back into the bathroom, she began to raid their medicine cabinet for antiseptic, gauze, and bandages.

When she finished tending to her wound Valerie contemplated raiding the refrigerator too. She was painfully aware of the ravenous hunger that clawed at her stomach, and as if on cue, her abdomen growled its opinion. She laid a hand over the grumbling to stiffle it. She was hungry, but her clothes weren't dry yet. She mulled over the potential consequences of sneaking off to stuff her face with nothing but a towel covering her small frame, but a sharp pain struck her and her stomach complained loudly in argument. Groaning, Valerie made up her mind and clutched the towel to her chest tightly, sprinting to the kitchen as quickly as she could. Throwing open the door, she eyed the contents before grabbing a few things. As she turned around with the intent to run back to the bathroom she nearly dropped the food in her arms.

There was a large pan of confections on the counter, covered in cling wrap.

"Sweet mother have mercy." She whispered, eyes glimmering. She'd only intended to take a little bit. Just enough to fill her up, but not enough to be noticed. The treats were tempting her sorely though. With a loud noise of complaint, the snuck a few, grabbed a spoon from a drawer, and dashed back to the bathroom. She devoured the sweets first before wolfing down the rest. She was in the middle of spooning some cottage cheese into her mouth when she heard the dryer ding. Pausing mid-bite, she set everything down and went to go dress herself. Afterwards she put the dirty dishes away and headed back to the bathroom to brush her mostly dry hair. It felt good to be clean again she mused to herself, gently undoing the many tangles. She had just finshed when she heard a car door slamming, and the sound of keys twisting in the lock of the front door. She put the brush away and went to the front room. Ethan was in the doorway, his back to her, helping Dawn up the steps. As they stepped through into the foyer, she raised her hand.

"Hey, you guys weren't home, so I decided to let myself in."

The couple froze, eyes locking on her. They seemed to not be able to comprehend that she was standing in their main room. They hadn't noticed her shoes? She lDawnooked around, and noticed that her sister had not followed in behind them. "Where's Sammy? At a friend's house?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow. Finally, Ethan spoke up. "Valerie..." The tone of his voice made her jerk her head back, and Dawn grabbed onto her husband, tears forming in her eyes. "Valerie... It's Samantha." He continued and as a sob welled up in Dawn's throat, Valerie felt her stomach drop. She walked briskly over to Ethan and grabbed him hard by the arms when he couldn't seem to spit out the rest of his words. "What? It's Samantha WHAT!?" She demanded, shaking him. Dawn finished for him, nearly choking on her words. "It's Sammy. She's been in the hosptial. The doctors say she's very sick."

Similar to when she'd seen the monster, her blood ran cold.

* * *

On the bright side, I'm pretty far into the next chapter.


End file.
